Lightning Strikes (Hudson 2)

"Never you mind, Mush," the bartender said and everyone laughed again.

"I can only give 'er one," he said.

Randall nodded.

"Just a lemonade then," he said

He gave Randall his change and he and I sat at an empty table. I gazed around at all the signs on the walls, the old posters, farm implements, swords and helmets, everything looking like it belonged in some museum. The bartender put Randll's lemonade and my shandy on the counter and Randall fetched them.

Everyone returned to their conversations as if we weren't there.

"This is fun, huh?" Randall asked.

"Yes. Everyone seems... friendly."

"Most of the pubs are owned by one or the other of the major breweries. Ones that are privately owned are called freehouses. This one's a freehouse and they usually have a bigger selection of ale. Too bad I can't get served, too," he said in a lower voice. "Go on. Drink yours. The beer here is different from America. They serve it room temperature instead of cold."

"Really? Why?"

"It's supposed to taste better," he explained.

I sat back and studied him a

moment.

"Why are you smiling at me like that?" he asked.

"For someone who supposedly didn't get around much, who was locked away in music suites, you sure seem.. , sophisticated."

"I told you. It's all from reading. I've always been a big reader. I'd have a book with me whenever I went to my lessons because sometimes I had to wait for the teacher to finish. with someone else, and, when you don't socialize a lot, you get used to spending your free time with a book," he said, shrugging as if it was the most obvious thing.

He was quiet for a moment and then leaned forward.

"What about you? Do you spend your free time with books? Or do you have a boyfriend waiting for you back home?"

"No, no boyfriend."

"Did you have lots of boyfriends? You asked me so I can ask you," he followed quickly. It made me laugh.

"Not really, no," I said. "I was too busy helping Mama at home. She was so tired all the time."

"So we both have a lot of catching up to do," he said. "Oh, we do? I don't know, Randall Glenn. Sometimes, you sound more experienced than you claim you are."

"What?" He looked sincerely confused and turned so crimson, I thought he might burst. Maybe he wasn't coming on to me as strongly as I thought he was. It was difficult to believe a boy who looked like he did was so innocent after all.

I sipped my ale and shrugged.

When our shepherd's pies were ready, the darkhaired lady brought them to our table and asked us if we wanted anything else. They were so hot we had to wait for them to cool, but they were delicious.

Suddenly, at the other end of the pub, two men who looked about forty started to sing.

"Fill up the cider cup,

Have another round.

Of all the drinks in England,

No better can be found."